


What Makes Him Tick

by Nary



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anal Sex, Clocks, Hair-pulling, Late at Night, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6540133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamilton pays Burr another late-night visit, and admires his clock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Makes Him Tick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Poetry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poetry/gifts).



"Are you going to make a habit of this?"

Burr stood in the doorway, staring down at, who else, Alexander Hamilton. It was nearly midnight, and it seemed as though they must be the only two people awake on Wall Street - maybe the only people in all of New York who lacked the good sense to be in bed at this hour of night.

"I saw your light was still burning," Hamilton said, not at all apologetic, "so I knew you'd still be up."

"I think I read once that neighbors are naturally enemies of each other," Burr pointed out, but stepped aside to let Hamilton in nonetheless. 

"Did you like that one?" Hamilton grinned, eager enough for the praise to remain oblivious to the insult. "...unless their common weakness forces them to league in a confederate republic, and their constitution prevents the differences that neighborhood occasions, extinguishing that secret jealousy which disposes all states to aggrandize themselves at the expense of their neighbors," he continued from memory, unaware (as usual) of what a show-off he sounded like. 

Burr sighed, extinguishing his own secret jealousy. "What do you want?"

Hamilton opened his mouth - no doubt to ask some question about a technicality of the law, or to force Burr to listen to an excerpt from one of his latest essays and tell him if it flowed all right - when the clock over the mantel struck twelve. Hamilton turned his head at the chiming bell and walked into the parlor as though drawn to the sound. Burr followed wearily, candle in hand.

The clock had reached seven strokes by the time they were standing in front of it. "It's lovely," Hamilton said, watching the little figures move through their steps. "A family heirloom?"

"My aunt's," Burr replied. "I used to stand there and watch it when I was small, waiting for the hour to strike so I could hear the music and watch the people dance." 

Hamilton nodded, as transfixed as a child himself by the tinkling of the minuet and the mechanical motions of the figures. "I don't think I would have been that patient," he said. "I would have been the one taking it apart to find out how it worked, where the music came from, and where the dancers went after they were done."

"You would have been the one breaking it, you mean."

"Probably," Hamilton admitted with a laugh. "Putting things back together once they've been dismantled is always harder than it looks. And I've always been impatient..." His hand trailed lazily up Burr's sleeve, too deliberate and too close to be an accident.

"What did you actually come here for?" Burr asked, taking the excuse of setting down his lamp on the edge of the mantel to step away, clear his head. 

"To see what time it was," Hamilton said, moving close enough that Burr could smell the wine on his breath. "My clock's stopped." Then Hamilton's mouth was on his, hot and rough, and Burr had to decide whether to push him away, or step back himself, and by the time he had finished thinking about how to react to this unexpected development and come to the conclusion that it was a terrible idea, Hamilton was already fumbling with his waistcoat. 

"Are you drunk?" Burr asked, incredulous. He thought he had tasted wine on Hamilton's lips, and the very comprehension that he had tasted Hamilton's lips left him stunned and unexpectedly aroused. He wrestled with his impulses, the desire to drag Hamilton to the floor and have his way with him competing with his natural wariness and a profound suspicion about his rival's true intentions. "What's come over you?"

Hamilton only laughed, and carried on unfastening Burr's shirt, tugging it open. The air was chill on his bared skin. Burr stepped back, pushing his hands away, his head swimming as though he was the one who was drunk. "Control yourself," he ordered Hamilton.

Looking a little ashamed, but not at all chastened, Hamilton held up his hands as though in surrender. "Too hasty?"

"You're always too hasty," he told Hamilton, and took a slow step closer to him. He would at least set the terms of their engagement, if he could not avoid the battle entirely. He would hold the high ground. "Take off your clothes if you truly want this, Alexander," he said, his voice low and roughened with desire. 

"When you say my name like that, it makes me want to do anything you ask," Hamilton gasped, and began disrobing at an unseemly speed, casting his clothing onto Burr's parlor floor. Burr spared a moment's thought for Theodosia, asleep upstairs with their young daughter, and stepped over to close the door. This was nothing his wife needed to know about. 

He turned back in time to see that Hamilton was just bending down to remove his stockings. Burr took a moment to admire his form, the arch of his back and the muscles of his legs, and then Hamilton stood up straight, face flushed and hair already a mess, and took his breath away.

"What now?" Alexander asked. His cock was already hard, probably had been since before they'd kissed, and the sight of its rigid length curving up towards his stomach made Burr helpless with lust, even if he couldn't admit it. 

"Now prove your intentions to me," he replied, and beckoned for Hamilton to kneel at his feet. 

Hamilton all but tripped over himself in his haste, but managed to end up on the floor in front of Burr, looking up at him with eager anticipation. Burr nodded his approval, and unbuttoned his breeches. Wasting no time, Hamilton reached for his cock, grasping it greedily in his hand. Biting back a moan, Burr tangled his fingers in Hamilton's disheveled hair. "Suck my dick," he ordered, savoring the feel of the crass, common words on his lips.

"It's a nice dick, so big and thick and hard - how do you want me to suck it?" Hamilton asked, speaking quickly, the way he always did when he was nervous. "Fast, or slow, or deep, or...?"

"I want it filling your mouth so you'll be quiet for one sweet minute."

"Only a minute?" Hamilton's grin was insolent, and he didn't resist when Burr tugged his hair to pull him close enough for what he wanted. His tongue wasn't stilled, however, but lapped at Burr's head as skilfully as any French whore's. He had done this before, Burr sensed, even as he moaned and thrust deeper into Hamilton's wide open mouth. Perhaps his relationship with Laurens had been more passionate than Burr had realized at the time. Or could it have been with Washington, when Hamilton was his aide de camp... Burr pushed those thoughts aside for consideration at a later date, distracted by the seamless smooth suck and pull along his length. 

As the heated strokes of Hamilton's lips around his cock continued, Burr felt the swell of his orgasm building. Before it became impossible to resist, he tugged again at Hamilton's hair to draw him back. "Enough," he all but growled. 

Hamilton looked up at him, his lips swollen and red from his ministrations. "But I wasn't finished," he protested. 

"This may come as a surprise to you, Alexander, but not everything is about what you want," Burr told him, and drew him up to his feet. Hamilton leaned against him, his body pressed against Burr's, hot and wanton, his lips begging to be kissed. Burr's arm snaked around his waist, but instead of embracing him, he spun him around to push him over the desk where he had been working. Papers scattered to the floor as Hamilton's hands splayed on the surface, bracing. Burr pinned him there with one arm, and spat on his free hand to moisten his cock. 

Hamilton squirmed indecently and gave a keening moan as Burr pushed his way inside his tight hole. "Quiet," Burr told him. "You never know when to keep your mouth shut."

"Ahh! I'll be quiet, please, just fuck me, keep going, harder!" The words kept coming, despite his promise of silence. Burr pounded him with an increasing fury, hoping that it would be enough to finally stem the flow of frantic pleading. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Hamilton's hips trembled, his moans dissolving into wordless cries, and from within him, Burr felt each desperate shudder and pulse. The hard spasms of Hamilton's ass, and the moment of blessed silence as he lay there panting in the aftermath of his orgasm, were enough to bring Burr to his own peak at last. Hamilton whimpered softly as his ass was flooded with hot spunk, but made no further sound.

Burr drew out of him at once, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the heat of their bodies where their skin met, the sweat that clung to them both. "Get dressed," he told Hamilton brusquely. "It's late." 

Hamilton straightened and stood. Burr noticed with disgust the glistening smear of his seed across the surface of his desk, spattered on half-finished papers and dripping onto the floor. "I'll clean up the mess," he offered, but Burr shook his head. He wanted Hamilton out of his house, and out of his thoughts. He felt shaken by what had happened, dazed and ashamed at his loss of control.

Having both dressed, they stood facing one another once more. "Did you get what you came for?" Burr asked.

"Certainly," Hamilton replied with a smile. "I learned more about the inner workings of your machinery."

After he departed, Burr stayed up cleaning and tidying the scene of the crime, so that nothing would look amiss in the morning. Then he stayed up a little longer, lost in thought, just long to hear the clock strike and to watch the dancers spin to the music one more time.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at [naryrising](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/naryrising) if you want to ask questions, make requests, or chat!


End file.
